


Cornered

by Serpenscript



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bestiality, Dark, Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Werewolf, dubcon, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 20:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serpenscript/pseuds/Serpenscript
Summary: Lupin's been hiding a secret, and it gets away from him.





	Cornered

The werewolf’s next lunge sends him sprawling, twisting in an attempt to escape the slavering, snapping jaws and the slashing paws. He manages to escape the teeth - but the claws snag his robes and trap him. With a snarl the wolf is _on_ him, tearing at him, shredding through sturdy black wool and cotton and raking welts down his back and buttocks.

The beast - _Lupin_ , his mind dimly acknowledges - is warm against his back. His forefeet are heavy against his shoulder blades, pressing his face and chest against the cold damp stone floor of the dead-end corridor. Wicked black claws prick the skin of his back and neck as the wolf shifts with a warning, rumbling growl.

He can feel every hot breath as the wolf pants harshly next to his ear, sharp wicked teeth gleam so terrifyingly close to his face. Thick, coarse fur tickles the bare skin of his back and thighs, and - Merlin help him - the wolf’s long, tapered cock rubs slickly against the cleft of his arse, poking at the furled ring of muscle. He can’t pretend he doesn’t know what the wolf wants, what the wolf is about to do, not with the wolf’s cock eagerly leaking precome all over his exposed backside.

He feels the furry body bunch and cries out in pain and fear when the werewolf’s powerful haunches thrust, driving his prick deep into his body. The tapered tip and the fluid ease the harsh penetration slightly, but he is cold and tense, and there has been no foreplay to prepare him, no heady arousal to temper the burn of penetration. The wolf’s powerful, sharp thrusts burn hotly, and his gut clenches with a sick feeling.

It’s completely different from when Lupin fucks him as a man. His lover never fails to prepare him, never takes him when he’s not in the mood, never takes him without thought for his comfort. But there’s nothing comfortable about being cornered and mounted by the wolf, the humiliation of the entire situation.

 _It’s Lupin_ , Severus reminds himself, curling his hands into fists, nails broken and bloodied when he’d tried to claw his way through the stone after the werewolf’s powerful jaws had snapped his wand - because he’d hesitated, unwilling to use anything potentially fatal on Lupin. _Remus is somewhere inside the beast -_

It’s hard to remember that, pinned down and mounted like a bitch. His heart is racing from adrenaline, and the wolf’s cock - longer than Lupin’s - stabs deeper, reaming him open. He bites his lip and closes his eyes, struggling to relax and accept this side of his lover - the wild, dangerous, feral side. The side that has slowly been growing resistant to wolfsbane. The side his lover didn’t tell him about - until it was too late.

Heavy furry bollocks slap against his perineum. The wolf’s copious amounts of precome ease the slide of his prick in and out until the hot sharp burn of penetration eases, and just the familiar fullness and friction remain. Only the shape of his lover is different - the shape and the mind and the _personality_ \- his breath hitches as he fights back the hysteria.

The wolf snarls, rumbling and dangerous next to his ear, and he can’t help flinching; the wolf thrusts harder, deeper, pistoning with a speed and urgency his human lover never has. And despite his fear and discomfort he feels his body responding, feeling his own cock beginning to harden as the wolf manages to rake over his prostate. It’s humiliating - getting aroused by being fucked by a beast - but the analytical side, the Slytherin side, knows Lupin will be shattered after moonset, when he realises what he did.

And Lupin would, in a moment of Gryffindor ‘nobility’, insist on ending things with him.

He rocks back to meet the wolf’s next thrust, half afraid the wolf will bite him for just moving, but - no - the wolf whuffs in pleasure. _Can I really do this? Not just - survive the wolf mounting me, but enjoy it? Orgasm from it?_ His next breath is a half-sob, but he tries to match the wolf’s frantic, rapid motions, inching his knees further apart as best as he can in the ruined remains of his trousers. He angles his hips, and cries out, half in relief, when the wolf’s frantic humping throws sparks behind his eyelids.

The wolf fucks differently than Remus - faster and harder and, with the wolf’s long tapered prick, _deeper_ , and Severus gasps raggedly for breath as he arches his back, accepts and welcomes the wolf’s rutting. He can feel his balls tightening when the wolf thrusts once more and stills.

It’s the knot swelling that pushes him over the edge, swelling and pressing against his prostate. He comes with a guttural groan and spills his seed in several spurts against the damp stone floor beneath him, squeezing frantically around the cock in his arse. Drained and sated, he barely shudders when the wolf howls his conquest over him; he feels Lupin’s prick pulsing, and then the wolf’s hot runny semen is flooding his arse, some of it seeping out around the wolf’s knot to wet his thighs.

The wolf is strangely calm after mating, and stands still during the time the knot binds them together, even removing his heavy paws from Severus’ back. He can breathe easier, sweat cooling on his back and under his arms. And with the wolf’s prick _still_ in his arse, he can’t pretend this didn’t just happen. A werewolf had cornered him, mounted and fucked him, and he’d survived - so far.

He hadn’t been bitten. _I’d rather a bit of - of unplanned, unsolicited rough sex than a life of lycanthropy. Even if it means a werewolf cock up my arse. If I can just survive until moonset - and convince Remus we can get through this latest - hitch - together._

He winces a little when the wolf moves experimentally and pulls away, some moments later. He feels - emptier - than he expected to feel. A sense of loss, and a returning fear. _With lust sated, will he turn to - to other hungers? Should I stay still, submissive? Roll over and defend myself? Try to run past -_ his thoughts tumble past, and he opts to stay still, if only because he doesn’t think he _can_ move, joints too stiff from the cold and the rough treatment.

But the wolf only sniffs at him in an almost _friendly_ manner, before staggering to one side and collapsing with a whimper.

Severus alternately blesses and curses moonset as the wolf begins to convulse and writhe, whining and snarling against the onslaught of the curse, until the wolf is gone - and only the man, his lover, lies naked and shivering in the dark corridor.

His knees creak and groan as he crawls the few feet between them to pull Lupin - Remus - into his arms, only realising he is shaking, too, when his hands fumble to draw his torn robes about them both. But he manages, tightening his arms when Remus is finally aware enough to remember what happened and struggles to pull away.

And when Lupin finally sags against him, defeated, eyes haunted, Severus tells him, “We will get through this too, Lupin.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus chokes out. “I should have told you - the wolfsbane - I was so afraid, I didn’t want to believe it wasn’t working as well anymore -”

“If I’d known, I could have begun working on revising the wolfsbane much sooner.” Severus turns his long, crooked nose into Lupin’s greying hair and inhales deeply, calmed by his lover’s scent. “Haven’t we been through hell already together? Did you really believe I would leave you simply because the current wolfsbane was less effective?”

Lupin’s silence - and the strangled sob - is all the answer he needs. “Remus,” he sighs, “I ran from you once, in the tunnel, and swore I would never again. I did not leave you when you chose Black over me. I did not leave you after the war, when I was publicly lauded a hero. Nor will I leave you now, just because the wolf could not wait til moonset to indulge his amorous side.”

Remus huffs a reluctant laugh, then sobers again. His brown eyes are so dark with guilt they almost match his lover’s. “How can you say that so lightly? I - the wolf _raped_ -”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Severus says sharply. “Don’t say that. Never. I won’t allow it. I won’t let you make me the victim just to indulge your need to self-flagellate. Nor will I allow you to push me away because of this. I categorically _refuse_ to allow your lycanthropy to destroy what we have. Do you understand?” He is shouting at the end, because after the past hour the last thing he wants is to lose Remus - and all he’s come to mean for Severus - on top of everything else.

He needs Remus, needs him like air and water and potions and magic, and if that means dangerous encounters in dead-end corridors with a werewolf, then he’ll deal with that.

Remus twists in his arms, until he can bury his face against Severus’ stomach and wrap arms around his thin torso. “What if I - what if the wolf isn’t satisfied with just f-fucking next time?” His words are muffled and shaky. “What if next time I bite you, or kill -”

It takes all of Severus’ skill to remain relaxed and calm. “If it comes down to a choice, I’d rather be bitten than killed,” he manages levelly, and is proud of that. Of course he doesn’t want to become a werewolf - but if that’s what it takes to keep Lupin by his side...

“What if you don’t get a choice?”

Severus tightens his arms around his lover, promising himself - again - he will never let go. “Then I will die, knowing I lived my life to the fullest - at my lover’s side to my very last breath. There are - many - worse ways to go.”

He holds Remus when his tears come, holds him until Remus is cried out, holds him until they are both stiff with cold and utterly drained, holds him until dawn creeps even into the dark recesses of the dungeons.

He blinks, stupid with exhaustion, when Remus stirs, and finally whispers _thank you_ into his torn robes.

And he feels relief, and hope. They’ll get through this, somehow. _Together_.


End file.
